


Being the Superior Couple

by NotALemon



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: -Dennis Reynolds @ Mac, Babe Stop Getting Banned From All Our Date Sites, Bottom Mac McDonald, But only a little, Canon-Typical Sexism, Canon-Typical Unhealthy Relationship, Dennis Reynolds is a Bastard Man, Dennis' Foundation on Mac's Shirt, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Feeding, Feeding Kink, Flirting, Fluff, Gratuitous Use of "Baby Boy" and Other Pet Names, Implied Sexual Content, Judging Others Together, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Marking, No Sex, Pet Names, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Subtly Kinking in Public, Teasing, Top Dennis Reynolds, Very Subtle and Specific Fetishes, Whether it's Bad or Not is Up to Y'all, You Know Because of the Power Dynamics, You Know What They're Gonna Do in the Range Rover, maybe a, you know ;) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 11:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotALemon/pseuds/NotALemon
Summary: Mac and Dennis sit at Guigino’s, judging everyone else. It’s their favorite pastime, other than drinking til they puke, general scheming, and anything sex-related. They’ve moved their chairs so they are able to both sit next to each other and watch the other patrons. Very routine.Dennis loves displaying himself in public like one of those birds with the big, colorful feathers that dance the best dances just to get laid. Yeah, one of those. He drapes himself over Mac’s muscled arms, leans his face onto Mac’s black RIOT shirt, leaving a soft, flesh-colored mark of foundation behind that marks Mac as the man with the Trophy Boyfriend.





	Being the Superior Couple

Mac and Dennis sit at Guigino’s, judging everyone else. It’s their favorite pastime, other than drinking til they puke, general scheming, and anything sex-related. They’ve moved their chairs so they are able to both sit next to each other and watch the other patrons. Very routine.

Dennis loves displaying himself in public like one of those birds with the big, colorful feathers that dance the best dances just to get laid. Yeah, one of those. He drapes himself over Mac’s muscled arms, leans his face onto Mac’s black RIOT shirt, leaving a soft, flesh-colored mark of foundation behind that marks Mac as the man with the Trophy Boyfriend. 

“Look at that cow,” Dennis says, not bothering to be quiet with his biting remarks. 

“That one?” Mac points at a random woman who might be the cow in question, since Dennis didn’t exactly give any specifics. 

“Don’t _point_, you uncultured bitch.” Dennis smacks Mac’s hand down and snuggles up closer to him, making sure to leave another foundation mark on his shirt. “She’s in the blue.” Dennis points her out. 

“_You_ get to point.” 

“Because I’m not low-class.” Dennis rolls his eyes. “Isn’t she a fat pig? Look at her in that dress. And her makeup makes her look like a whore.” 

Mac hums in noncommittal agreement as he squints at the woman from across the room, trying to understand what Dennis hates about her. If Dennis hates something about someone, then Mac should, too, right? 

“Pig,” Dennis repeats. He wonders if he should climb into Mac’s lap, but they can’t afford to get banned again. They’re running out of date spots, what with their general antics, Dennis’ astute observations, and Mac trying to pick karate fights with people who don’t agree with Dennis’ aforementioned astute observations, and they don’t have a lot of chances left with Guigino’s after what happened _last time_. 

“Mm,” Mac agrees, still not getting it. 

Dennis drinks his water and decides laying his legs over Mac’s lap would be acceptable. It’s not like those people who get drunk and fuck in public. They don’t do that anymore. It’s a classy display of lustful affection and all that nonsense. 

“What about that dude?” Mac points out some man who could’ve been a beefcake a couple years back, but has let himself go. 

“Disgusting,” Dennis sneers. He lays a hand on the back of Mac’s neck, chilled from the ice water, and thrills in Mac’s resulting shiver. 

Mac nods, distracted from Dennis’ chilly hand. He looks at Dennis, love filling his eyes, and, for one second of both overwhelming, Dennis-like hubris and the constant need of self-destruction, he’s filled with the nearly overwhelming urge to rip Dennis’ hand off the back of his neck and slide it down the front of his pants in the middle of _fucking Guigino’s_. 

Thank God their food arrives before Mac can act on his primal instinct to both fuck and self-destruct at the same time, or else they’d get banned for what could potentially be the final time. 

It’s their regular order, suited to Dennis’ tastes, and, by some sort of weak extension brought forth by his own submission, Mac's, too. He lets Dennis feed him bites. Another act of submission. 

“Baby boy,” Dennis breathes, almost reverent, as he feeds Mac a forkful. 

Mac leans in for a kiss, but Dennis puts the empty fork against Mac’s lips like a finger. 

“You have to eat first, baby boy,” he explains to Mac’s little pout. “Right?” 

Mac sighs. “Right,” he says, dejected. 

Dennis picks up another forkful of food, neat and careful, and slips it between Mac’s waiting lips. He revels in the dominance over Mac, not allowing him to eat his own food. If he could control Mac’s chews, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for simply feeding Mac. 

It takes all of Dennis’ willpower not to take Mac into the bathroom and defile him right there when Mac lets out little moans of delight. Dennis has wonderful self-control. 

“Baby boy, when I take you home, I’m going to-” Dennis leans over to whisper filth into Mac’s ear, the type of thing that would make his dead bitch of a mother roll in her fucking grave. Mac’s eyes widen, pants tighten, and he wonders if getting banned from Guigino’s again isn’t worth it. He lets out another moan, this time a little more noticable. 

“You like that, baby boy?” Dennis idly drags the back of his index finger against Mac’s cheek, from the first to last knuckles. 

Mac lets out a tiny sigh. “Mhm,” he responds, mouth full of food. He closes his eyes and leans into Dennis’ touch, shifting so he can slide the tip of Dennis’ thumb into his mouth. Dennis groans quietly. 

“Den?” Mac opens his eyes gently to gaze into Dennis’ eyes with the softest, fuck-me gaze he can muster. 

Dennis bites his lip. “Yeah, baby?” 

“Take me home.” Mac opens his eyes to look into Dennis’ as he runs the back of his hand against Dennis’ cheek in the same way Dennis touched Mac’s, but much more tender. “And then you can, uh, do _stuff_ to me. With me.” His face is warm against Dennis’ touch. 

“Finish your food. Can you do that for me?” 

Mac nods, mute. 

“Good boy.” 

Mac lights up, but that might just be the blush filling his face. He closes his eyes again to let Dennis feed him the rest of his meal, lashes brushing the tops of his cheekbones. Everything about him screams _fuck me, Dennis_.

“My good boy.” Dennis leans over and licks a bit of sauce off Mac’s lips. Mac keens and chases after his mouth when he pulls away, but Dennis stops him again, driving him crazy. Good. 

Mac grips Dennis’ wrist to guide the fork back to the plate. 

“Eager,” Dennis says. 

“I wanna go home, man. So you can-” Mac looks away in embarrassment, chewing on his lip. 

“Yeah, baby? You wanna tell me about it in the Range Rover? You want me to touch you on the way home?” Dennis forces Mac’s chin up so Mac has to look in his eyes. “Look at me when I’m speaking.” 

Mac’s eyelids flutter. “Fuck, Den.” 

Dennis smirks at that. He loves working Mac up, forcing him to wait, and then fucking his brains out when they do finally get home. Especially in public, where Mac can't do anything about it without embarrassing both of them and getting punished for it later. Dennis' entire body trills with memories of Mac's last punishment, where he finally cracked after _hours_ of Dennis' relentless teasing and dragged Dennis off into some bathroom to suck him off. The spanking he'd given Mac makes Dennis throb in anticipation for later tonight. 

“Finish your food, and then you’ll get to leave.” Dennis lets go of Mac’s chin to continue feeding him. 

Mac nods once more, eager to finish his food so they can get to dessert (i.e., fucking). 

Dennis tilts up Mac’s chin with a gentle finger and offers him another fork of pasta. Here they are, together, being the superior couple to those around them. Only they have this level of self-control, this level of trust, and Dennis’ll be damned before he stops showing it off.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a feeding kink but you wouldn't think so from reading this. I just really love their power dynamic. It's complex and unhealthy and just interesting overall. For some reason, I can imagine that Dennis likes to execute the same control over _how_ Mac eats that he does over _what_ Mac eats, you know? 
> 
> Also, voicey narrators are my _thing_, if you can't tell. I like my prose with a ton of zest and bias in it. 
> 
> Title: Santa Monica by The Front Bottoms.


End file.
